Mad Swan
by twostrandsofmelody
Summary: A series of unrelated smut drabbles about Emma and Jefferson.
1. Try Me

_Would love some emma/jefferson smut! This ship is unhealthy I swear. I'll bet Emma sleeps with the hat in her bedroom… that's probably prompt enough haha. (Sorry I'm going to come up as anon - I don't have a tumblr but found your blog through livejournal and I love your writing)!_

_**~o~**_

Jefferson had not expected that when he came crawling out of the hat, that he'd come crawling into Emma's bedroom. In his mind he wondered if she somehow thought he'd reappear to her and they'd conveniently be in her room. It was impossible that she didn't feel the sexual tension between them before. But here he was now, half-past one in the morning, in her bedroom watching her sleep.

She looked beautiful in the pale blue moonlight that slipped through her open curtains, her face peaceful as she slept. This picture was a perfect reward for falling head first into the hat. With Emma asleep he didn't run the risk of being hit with a telescope again or kicked out a window by Mary Margaret. Both injuries had left dark bruises on his pale skin.

Jefferson hovered of the bed, one hand on the headboard, to support himself as he reached towards her hesitantly and stroked a strand of blond hair off of her cheek. She flinched, the muscles in her cheek reacting to the gentle brush of his fingers, but she didn't wake up.

Was it wrong that Jefferson longed to feel another human being in his arms? It had been twelve years since he had been with a woman in the _real_ world, since Grace's mother had been alive. In Storybrooke he hadn't even really shown himself in the town, so having a woman was out of the question. But here was Emma, who made electric shocks ignite beneath his skin when their finger tips had brushed. Made him contemplating pushing her against the shelves of hats and having his way with her. Made him dizzy with desire -

"Jefferson?" She mumbled in her sleep and he froze. Eyes opening quickly out of his fantasies to see if she had awoken. But she hadn't, she was still fast asleep. "Jefferson." Her mouth parted with a little moan as she shifted in her sleep, rolling from on her side to on her back.

Emma Swan was dreaming about him. He grinned mischievously as he watched her sleep. Watched her lips part as she reacted to something in the dream, her lips forming his name silently.

Taking a chance, Jefferson leaned down and kissed her lips gently, not wanting to rouse her. She didn't respond at first, but in that sleep-slow way, she kissed him back. Her lips moved against his, perhaps in accord with whatever she was dreaming they were doing. He let the kiss gain desperation, before he pulled away and watched her react.

"_Jefferson_." Even in her sleep her voice was thick with desire.

He admired that look, lips parted and shimmering from their kiss, her hands gripping the bed sheets. "If you were awake, you'd deny this dream." He murmured, a hint of sadness in his voice. Emma had led him a long, made him believe she believed and trusted him, only to call him insane and smack him with a heavy metal object. She was a masochist, she'd deny herself her own carnal pleasures just to prove her point. He was sexy, but he was insane - the latter won out always.

"No I wouldn't." Her eyes flew open, startling Jefferson and making him lose grip of the headboard. He fell forward onto the bed, when all him meant to do was step backwards and run for the door, but the pair of slippers at the side of her bed made him loose his footing. So he fell, awkwardly half on the bed and half on Emma.

He scrambled trying to get up, but Emma had wrapped one leg around his waist and held him in place. "Emma I-"

"Kissed me and thought that wouldn't wake me up." Emma's voice was a mixture of sleepy and lusty. "Why are you creeping in my bedroom."

"You wouldn't believe me." Jefferson replied, feeling all of the blood race through his body. The position she had him in was incredibly uncomfortable. Half of his torso was hanging off of the bed, but an important half was being pressed into the mattress by her grip around his waist.

"Try me."

"I came through the hat." He gritted, trying to wiggle his way further up the bed, but her leg muscles trumped him.

"Perhaps I should say realistically try me."

"Alright then." Jefferson gave her a cheeky grin and tried her lips. He pressed his lips against hers, stealing kiss after kiss from her willing mouth.

"Bastard." Emma hissed between kisses, not denying that she wanted him to.

"Let me up." Jefferson rasped, as he fought against the hold of her leg. She complied, shifting her leg off of him and sitting up on her elbows.

"Where are you going?" Emma asked. Jefferson turned back and looked at her, his expression unreadable in the low light. "Get back here now."

"Is that an order _Sheriff_?" Jefferson kicked off his boots before climbing back onto the bed and positioning himself over Emma, resting his weight on his knees on either side of her still partially blanket covered legs, and on his elbows beside her head.

"Yes. It is." Emma grinned, cupping the back of his head and pulling him down to kiss her.

Jefferson stopped just an inch above her lips, his breath dancing across her face hypnotically. "Is it typical for a Sheriff to let a stranger into her bed? One that's already tried to hold her hostage?"

"Very typical." Emma retorted, trying again to kiss the stubborn man.

"I'm jealous." Jefferson rasped, he pressed his hips against hers with a mischievous grin.

"I can feel that you're jealous." Emma let out squeak at the sensation. "You have too many clothes on."

"I think we're equal." Jefferson teased, stroking his fingers along her bare arm. When he'd first met her she was wearing only a spaghetti strap tank top, much like this one.

"You have a jacket, a vest, and a cravat on. Aren't you hot?"

"Very." Jefferson replied, leaning down and kissing her as her fingers fumbled to remove his overcoat, shucking it off his shoulders and discarding it somewhere at the foot of the bed.

Emma rolled them, sitting astride him as she worked on unbuttoning his vest. Her work kept being interrupted by Jefferson bucking his hips up against her, distracting her from one pressing issue to the other. "Tease."

"I don't tease, I completely follow through." Jefferson reached up and took her cheek, dragging her down for a kiss, his tongue parting her lips and invading her mouth.

Emma finally worked the last button on his vest, prying it open and wiggling to get it partially over his shoulders. She tucked her feet around him and twisted them back over. It was easier for her to undress him if she was pressed against the bed. She didn't want him to have the upper hand, not after everything that had happened at his house. She never wanted to feel helpless.

Jefferson let out a hiss of pain as her palm came in contact with the large bruise across his chest. "I'm fine." He groaned, kissing her again and bucking into her to distract himself from the aching bruise.

"What happened?" Emma asked before realizing that the bruise she'd revealed was from Mary Margaret. "Oh."

Jefferson batted her hands away from the bruise, pinning them above her head. He stared down at her hotly, his breathing ghosting over her lips. "I think there are more pressing issues than a bruise." At his words he pressed against her roughly, showing her just how desperate he was for her. "I need you."

She hooked a leg over his waist, pulling him closer to her. "I prefer the dream Jefferson better." His brows furrowed together and she laughed at him.

"What did the dream Jefferson do that I can't do?" Jefferson released her arms, dragging a finger along the inner part of her arm down to the strap of her tank, he slid it off her shoulder before doing the same thing to the other. His lips traced along the edge of her collarbone, enjoying the way it made her shutter beneath him. "So what did he do that I don't do?"

Emma couldn't think of a coherent thought as he continued to tease her with his lips. As a matter of fact, dream Jefferson hadn't felt this real, except for that kiss and that had been the real Jefferson doing it. She halfway questioned herself as to whether or not this was a dream and she'd wake up in the morning feeling unsatisfied.

He felt real, solid, and warm beneath her palms. Her hands worked at the buckles, buttons, and zippers of his pants - wondering why he wore such difficult pants. He had already, almost unfairly, slid down her cotton shorts, leaving her in nothing but panties in the tangle of limbs and sheets.

It was no surprise to her that Jefferson didn't wear underwear, he struck her as a man who preferred whiskey to beer and going commando to being comfortable. It wasn't a surprise to either of them that they were both desperate to posses one another. The tension that had built up between them had come to a peak and it needed that extra push to send them both careening down a rabbit hole of pleasure and desire.

~o~

Emma groaned as she woke up to the light of the sun streaming in her window and forcing her to reenter the real world. Her dreams had been _wonderful_. She hadn't had such a vivid dream, in a very long time. But as she stretched in her bed, she realized that it hadn't been a vivid dream. Her foot brushed against Jefferson's leg, waking him up slightly and causing him to roll over, his arm seeking Emma. Like a comfort blanket, he pulled her close to him, burying his face in her hair, and inhaling deeply.

Emma tensed slightly, horrified that she had actually slept with Jefferson - after everything that had happened. But at the same time she curled against him, thankful that the dream had been real. The clock on the bedside table read 9:09, nine minutes past when she should have been down at the station - but it was Friday and Jefferson's arm around her waist was a good excuse for calling in sick.

"You do owe me an apology for the bruise on my cheek though." Jefferson mumbled into her hair, his grip on her waist tightening as he chuckled.

"I don't apologize." Emma replied turning her neck to look back at him without turning in his hold. "But I can do other things in lieu of an apology."

"Like what?" His voice was dark as he kissed the base of her neck.

"You'll see." Emma laughed cheekily, pressing back against him. She hadn't felt this good in a long time and she wasn't quite ready to return to the reality where Jefferson had a long list of petty crimes that he deserved to be in jail for. For right now it was just her and Jefferson chasing whatever they felt between them.


	2. Office Work

_Please do a smutty fic with jefferson deciding he's tired of lying awake thinking about emma in his huge empty house, so decides to pay her a late-night visit at the sheriff's office (where emma is working late on a case or something) and desk sex ensues…_

AND

_I would like to make a prompt request. Jefferson arrives in Emma's office and they get carried away and totally forget that Mary Margaret is in the jail and is watching them, incredulously but also amused._

_**~o~**_

Jefferson sat his binoculars down, bored with watching Emma working late into the night. He'd been sitting there for well over two hours, just watching the blond sheriff reading files and shuffling papers around her desk. He'd been watching her ever since he'd come back from the hat. She knew he was back too. But of course she didn't know he was still watching her, or perhaps she did because he thought that he'd catch her glancing up towards the house as she worked.

He paced for a few moments, before finally deciding he was going to go down to the sheriff's office and visit Emma. He wanted her and he wasn't going to wait around for a better opportunity to come around. He drove his car down the hill and drove into town, pulling into the parking lot of the Sheriff's Office with the headlights off.

Jefferson was to focused on heading towards Emma's office to notice that Mary Margaret was asleep in her cell.

"What are you doing here?" Emma asked, jumping at Jefferson's sudden appearance in her office. She hadn't been expecting anyone to be at the office at this hour.

"What are you doing here?" Jefferson mimicked, a smirk playing across his lips.

"I'm working on a case." Emma replied, the tiredness in her voice made her sound all the more irritated by his appearance. "Is there an emergency or something?" He stepped around her desk and she tensed.

"I just wanted to see you." Jefferson put his hands on the back of her chair, leaning over her shoulder to look at what she was reading. "Ah, the case against Snow White."

"What?"

"Your mother."

"She's not.." Emma sighed, knowing it wasn't worth the argument. Jefferson breath was hot against her shoulder as he continued to read over her shoulder, setting alight ever nerve in her body. "Couldn't you have just watched me from your house?"

"Not as satisfying." Jefferson commented, reaching over her shoulder to move a page of the notes to continue reading. "The Queen's not going to let this case go easily. She _hates_ Snow."

"Her name's Mary Margaret."

"Yes, but Mary Margaret wouldn't kick someone out of a window either." Jefferson rested his other hand on Emma's shoulder, growing bolder with his touches. She leaned into the touch and surprised him. "That was very mean of the two of you."

"Well so was lying to me and tying us up."

"You enjoyed it." He pressed his lips against the curve of her ear as he spoke. "Don't deny it. You know you did."

"Jefferson-" Emma gasped as he nibbled at her ear, his teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh. "You're crazy."

"It's all your doing."

"I thought it was the "evil queen's" doing?" Emma commented, trying to keep her words coherent despite the electricity running rampant through her body with everyone of his teasing touches.

"Yes, the _madness_ was her doing, but you are the one who is driving me crazy." His hands slid up and down her shoulders, feeling the goose-pimples rising up beneath his touch.

"Stop this." Emma hissed, standing up quickly and attempting to put space between them. He stepped closer to her, effectively penning her between him and her desk.

"If you ask me to stop, I will. I'm not going to force you." Where would the fun be in that? Jefferson gave her a mischievous grin, his eyes locking with hers. He willed her to kiss him, eyes flickering between her's and her lips.

"But I don't want you to." Emma whispered, leaning towards him and kissing him, giving into the desires that made her stomach tighten. He pushed her up onto the desk, settling himself between her legs as she wrapped them around him.

In the back of her head she remembered that Mary Margaret was in a cell in the room over, as her name plate fell of the desk, joined shortly by pens and pencils and a stapler.

They wasted little time with each other's clothes as the contorted their bodies to remove the offending garments and lose little of the friction as they pressed against each other. Lips parted only for their moans and sucks of air that was necessary. The thought of keeping quiet for Mary Margaret's sake was let gone as soon as their last shreds of garments were removed and Jefferson took her, there, on her desk. She clung to him desperately, fingers skimming through his hair, tracing the outline of the ridged scar around his neck.

"You're beautiful." Jefferson murmured hotly against the skin of her shoulder as he buried his face there. This was everything he'd imagined, the beautiful satisfaction of having her bare in his arms, legs wrapped around him, moving together.

Emma didn't know what to say back to him, she didn't even know if she could form coherent words as he leaned her back against the desk, the feeling of abandoned pens and papers digging into the bare flesh her back. She'd wanted this since he'd pushed her into this work space and held a gun to her head. She wanted him to put the gun down and push her against the shelves of hats, forgo making her create a hat for him. That had been a fantasy that had played out in her mind that had distracted her from working on this case tonight. She hadn't expected that he'd show up in her office and take her against her own desk. It had never even crossed her realm of possibilities.

But neither had him falling out a three story window and surviving to do this. Nor had the thought that Mary Margaret was Snow White and her mother. Or the fact that as she let out a shout of pleasure that Mary Margaret - her mother - was listening to her mewls of passion. She wouldn't be able to face her in the morning without being crimson with embarrassment.

"This puts a new spin on _office work_." Jefferson grinned, satisfied. Her dipped down to kiss Emma, brushing her blond hair out of her eyes. This certainly beat watching her from afar.


	3. The Taste of Shower Water

**PWP About Jefferson in a towel.**

Emma walked down the hall towards the last doorway, she'd looked through every room in the mansion, trying to find some sign of Jefferson. Every other room had turned up no clues and left her more curious about the sad man. He had no pictures, no phones, no anything that could connect him with another soul.

As she pushed the door open she was surprised to see a light flooding out from beneath the door opposite of her. She'd found his bedroom. It was as stark and plain as all of the other rooms. But she was surprised to find that it was occupied. She heard the sound of the shower shut off and the door started to open. Did she dare to hide? There wasn't exactly time to.

"Emma." Jefferson quickly wrapped the towel he had been using to dry off his shoulder around his waist.

Emma gaped, her eyes roaming over his bare and still damp expanse of skin. She'd wondered what he looked like beneath all of the heavy clothing he had worn. She'd figured he would have been fit, muscular, but not too muscular. "Jefferson I.." He laughed at her expression and her brows furrowed together. "I.."

"You what?" Jefferson grinned smugly, enjoying the way his bare skin affected her. He stepped towards her, leaving wet foot prints on the pale carpet. "Did you expect to find this?"

"I didn't expect to find you at all." Emma managed to not sound as dazed as she felt. "What happened?" She questioned, not just about his disappearance but about the fact that his torso and legs were covered with dark bruises and cuts.

"Run in with an attack plant." Jefferson explained, stepping closer towards her and laughing again at her expression. "I didn't think you'd care."

"Well, as the sheriff I needed to investigate your disappearance."

"No you didn't. You don't want anyone to know about what happened that night. You can't let anyone find out that Mary Margaret escaped from prison." He was face to face to her now. Her eyes focused anywhere but his eyes, she focused on a bead of water that slid down his shoulder. Down his chest and down his muscled abs, and down, straight down to just below his naval where the towel concealed him.

She flushed and looked back up at him. "I'm sorry I should go." But she didn't move. She met his eyes and found herself caught in his allure. This was why she wasn't going to look at him. His eyes drew her in and stole her breath. She brought a hand up and rested it on the curve of his neck, pulling him down to her lips.

She couldn't stand the tension; she couldn't stand the desire that coursed through her veins anymore. She wanted him and she'd be damned if he stopped her now. It wasn't fair how he made her feel. His lips were delicious against hers. He tasted of tea with a hint of flowers and fresh rain - or perhaps that was the taste of the shower water that dripped down his face and dampened his lips.

Jefferson knotted fingers in her hair, pulling her close to him. This was not what he'd expected to find when he came out of his shower. He'd expected to find an empty bedroom that mirrored his empty life. But, now, as he took step after step to push her back against his bed - he found himself thankful that it wasn't that way. "You're all wet." He teased as he saw her white tank top damp from his wet chest.

"Then take it off." Emma rasped, pulling him back down for a kiss as she felt his diligent fingers pulling at her tank top. Their lips broke just enough to pull her tank off.

"You are significantly more dressed than me." Jefferson spoke against her ear, nibbling at the lobe. "It's unfair."

"Well you were the one taking a shower." Emma retorted, her hands ghosting across the top of the towel, tempted to pull it off of him.

"Maybe you should go take a shower too." Jefferson's muscles trembled beneath her touch, her fingernails racking up across his spine. "Or we could take one _together_."

"Later." Emma breathed against his shoulder as she scraped her teeth there.

"Careful of my bruises." He hissed, grinning at her as she leaned back against his bed and placed kisses against one of the bruises that wrapped around his shoulder. "_Emma_." He groaned, his eyes closing. "You have to be a dream." He blurted out what he had been thinking since he came out of his shower and found her standing in his room.

"I'm real." Emma reassured him, lavishing a kiss to another bruised on his chest, tracing her finger across the dark mark. "Where did you get all of these?"

"Wonderland." He replied, resigned to the fact that she wouldn't believe him. But then he felt her lips against the scar on his neck, her tongue flicking out to smooth over the mark.

"I believe you." Emma whispered, knowing now that there was so much more than she understood. She laughed as she felt him pull at the button of her jeans, those words snapping his last ounce of control.

"I'm going to make you go insane like me." Jefferson kissed her again, passionately and desperately. He had longed to feel someone in his arms, someone willing and wanting. He had watched Emma for months, wondering if she could be his salvation in more than one way. And she was.


	4. Five Hours

_**pringlethelurker**__** asked **__**drabblesofmelodies**__**:**_

"_There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness." ― Friedrich Nietzsche_

_**theloyaldog**__** asked **__**drabblesofmelodies**__**:**_

_Jefferson and Emma get locked in one of the station cells by Henry , who wanted to play a prank on them, but he leaves them in there and a pwp occurs_

"I'll be back to let you two out in… five hours. After school." Henry grinned, checking his watch once more before backing up and showing the keys off to Emma. "Jefferson, make her believe in the storybook."

"I'll try best kiddo." Jefferson retorted, giving the kid a grimace like smile. He wasn't exactly planning on spending his day locked in a cell with Emma and given the look on Emma's face she wasn't thrilled about this either.

"Henry, come back here right now." Emma ordered, stamping her foot for emphasis. "Henry!" She shouted, grabbing onto the bars and shaking them in frustration as Henry raced out of the building.

"I don't want to be late for school!" He called as the door shut.

"Dammit." Emma hissed, crossing her arms across her chest and turning back to look at Jefferson. "Stuck with you for five hours."

"It could be worse." Jefferson grinned, that mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"You mean I could be stuck in here with you for _ten_ hours?" Emma moved past him to sit down on the little cot in the corner. "I can't believe I'm trapped in my own office."

Jefferson turned on his heels quickly, moving to sit down next to her on the cot, "Scoot over."

"This isn't big enough for two."

"Scoot." Jefferson motioned, but when she didn't move he sat down anyways, their legs pressed against each other. "I did tell you to scoot."

"Couldn't you have sat on the floor?"

"I'm not sitting on a concrete floor for five hours." Jefferson turned and gave her another mischievous look.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" He smirked, enjoying the way his close proximity made her squirm.

"Like that."

"Does it make you uncomfortable."

"Yes and if you keep at it, this is going to be one hell of a five hour cell stay for you."

"What are you going to do?" Jefferson closed the distance between them, his hot breath dancing across her face and making her hair sway. "Hmm?"

"Jefferson, I'm the Sheriff, you cannot act like this with me." Emma snapped, standing up quickly before she let herself do something foolish. She turned back to watch him as she walked away, feeling his stare on her ass as she walked. He was incorrigible.

"Act like what?"

"Don't play innocent." Emma let out an irritated sigh. "Listen, I don't play games and honestly, if I have to be stuck in here for five hours, you better knock this off."

"I think your kid Henry likes the idea of you and me being together." Jefferson rose to his feet like a cat on the prowl. He stepped towards her, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"Obviously." She tried to sound sure of herself as she back away, backing herself against the bars. "Doesn't mean I'm keen on the ideas."

"That's why you have had me helping you with cases? Made trips up to my house to "keep my company". Emma, you're sending me mixed signals."

"I'm not-"

"Yes you are." He put one hand on the bar by the right of her head, their noses were practically brushing. "Come on, five hours, all alone, in a cell with me, no one's here to interrupt."

"Henry could walk back in that door at any moment."

"Or he couldn't." Jefferson smirked at the smile that she tried to hide.

"You are completely mad." Emma pressed her palms against his chest, trying to get him to move out of her way. She efficiently let him trap her between the cell and his body. It wasn't fair that his close proximity was making her body shoot of signals that were making her want to kiss him. The way he kept looking at her lips, the way he traced his own lip with his tongue. It made her gulp back the frog in her throat.

"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness." Jefferson quoted, pressing his forehead against hers. "Do you know that quote?"

"No." Emma caught herself staring at his lips, attempting to resist the desire to catch them between her teeth and tease them. She hadn't let herself get swept away like this since when Graham was alive. She hadn't wanted to push someone against the wall and have her way with them since Graham. Now here he was driving her body crazy.

"Well it's true. There's also some reason for someone's madness." Jefferson's breath danced across her face again, making her tremble.

"Really?" It was a nonsensical question that was veined purely in the fact that nothing seemed intelligent currently. Nothing made any sense.

"You're my reason for madness." Jefferson couldn't resist any longer, he pressed flush against her and kissed her. His free hand skimmed down her side, cupping her ass and pulling her closer to him. He'd been wanting to kiss her since the moment he had her in his work room.

"Jefferson, Henry could walk in."

"He's at school, Emma." Jefferson rasped, removing his hand from the bars to knot his fingers in her hair. His grip tightened on her as she bit at his lips, making his heart race. He lifted her up, amused by the fact that she so willing wrapped her legs around his waist.

Emma clung to him, fingers skimming through his hair her teeth nipping at his lips, enjoying the way it made him respond. Lips, tongues, and teeth warred against each other as they combated all of the tension that had built up between them over the last few months.

"Emma-" Jefferson started before kissing her again, pulling her away from the bars and stumbling backwards until he felt the cot behind him.

"What?" Emma gasped as he pulled her down on his lap as they sat. She was frustrated that he kept trying to talk. He talked too much.

"We have five hours." He rasped, pulling back and staring at her. They were both breathing heavily, lips parted, hair tangled. Jefferson reached up to stroke her blond hair out of her face, laughing at the look on her face.

"You are _not_ telling me to wait are you?" Her fingers idly toyed with the buttons of his vest, popping the buttons through their holes.

"I don't know, am I? I mean Henry told me to make you believe in the book-" Emma kissed him impatiently and pressed her hips towards. "But this is much better than talking about a book."

"I thought you'd say that." Emma laughed against his laps as she pushed his vest down his shoulders, her fingers moving to pull the cravat away from his neck. He caught her hands, meeting her eyes darkly. "What now?"

"The scar."

"I know."

"But you haven't seen it clearly; it's not exactly a finer aspect of me."

"But it's part of you." She kissed him again, reassuring him that she didn't care if he had an ugly scar that ringed around his neck, a thin threaded cord showing where the two pieces had been stitched back together.

Jefferson let his last bit of reserve snap as he pulled her to him, hands running along her curves, sliding her t-shirt up and over her body, lips tugging desperately at hers. He didn't care if anyone walked in on them right now. He needed her, he craved her, it was maddening and controlling. If he didn't have her _right_ now he was going to lose what little sanity he still had.

Henry's plan might have not made her believe in the storybook but it had made him believe that he was worth something to someone, that he wasn't just a mad man who lived like a hermit in a house all to himself. Maybe when everything was done and over with he would invite Emma and Henry to live with him and Grace. Then he'd have a family again. Grace could have a mother and Henry could have a father.


	5. Tension

_**Anonymous asked:**_

_please get emma to go all DESIREEEEE on him and take control of jefferson and pin him down etc and he be all like HMMM KINKY GURRRL_

_**Anonymous asked:**_

_Emma and Jefferson have a fight over something, they argue, and then end up having hot angry/make-up sex._

**PWP and a bit smutty/kinky. I mean there's handcuffs and sexual tension.**

They weren't even together and their "relationship" felt like a high school drama unfolding every day. Every day it was getting aggravated with each other and going their separate ways more frustrated than they had been to begin with. It was beginning to get old fast.

"Emma?" Jefferson called as walked into the Sheriff's office.

"Why are you here?" Emma asked, standing up and crossing her arms as Jefferson walked into her office.

"Nice to see you too _sweetheart_." Jefferson retorted chucking the bag of food he'd got at Granny's at her.

"No one asked you to come," She looked into the bag. "And no one asked you to get me food."

"Well, maybe I'm just a good hearted guy." He feigned injury.

"It doesn't impress me Jefferson, it irritates me." Emma sat the bag of food down on her desk, staring at him.

"If you don't want the food, give it back to me." He stepped towards her, dangerously close, to grab the bag from behind her - but she didn't back down. She jerked the bag away from him, pushing it farther across the desk so he couldn't reach it.

"You can leave now Jefferson." Emma said, meeting his eyes as the darkened.

"Not until I leave with what I came with." Jefferson retorted, a tint of venom in his voice. He stepped closer to her, try to reach that extra inch to grab the bag. When he realised it was impossible to reach with her in the way, he tried to push her out of the way surprised at the strength the petite blond had.

"Come on Emma," He glared at her. "I don't want you to get hurt." He pulled her hard to get her to move but she was immobile.

"I don't think I'm the one about to get hurt." She snapped, before pushing him away from her at full force. As he started to fall backwards, he grabbed her arm, pulling her down with him.

"Kinky." Jefferson smirked, his eyes glancing down at the way she fallen on him, straddling him. "Didn't know you felt this way Emma."

Emma matched his smirk, her breath hitched in her throat. She hadn't realized that this was what all of those frustrated feelings were about. It would take her falling on him like this for her to realize wouldn't it? Not a normal conversation or maybe a drunken kiss. No, she'd have to tackle him to the ground because of a sandwich to realize that her frustration with him was sexual tension.

"You wish." Emma retorted, grabbing his hands as he tried to pry her off of him, despite himself. She pinned his arms on either side of his head, enjoying the look of frustration on his face.

"You're sending me mixed signals Miss Swan. Do you want me or not?" Jefferson bucked his hips up, laughing at the surprised look her face. "I take that as a yes?"

She couldn't let him be right, she'd be damned if he were right. But she'd be damned if she didn't kiss that damn smirk off of his face. Emma kissed him hard and raw, her fingers entwining with his as they stretched out on the floor of her office. She knew he spoke frequently of Wonderland and all of the amazing sights of Wonderland, and how much he hated it and was amazed by it at the same time - that's what struck her. To her, _he_ was Wonderland. She hated him and wanted him all at the same time. He drove her to despair and yet somehow she still wanted him.

He fought for the release of one of his hands, but she didn't submit. She wouldn't submit. She switched her hold from both hands, to both of his hands in one of hers. Her grip was strong, skilled from her work. He heard the clink of metal against metal as her lips worked against his and it made him still.

She pulled back with a satisfied smile on her lips, sitting back on his hips and looking down at him.

"Handcuffs?" He narrowed his eyes, looking at his cuffed wrists. "That's playing dirty."

"I have the key." Emma grinned, shifting her hips again and watching him squirm. "I think I'll wait awhile though."

"Tease."

"Always." She didn't want to give into her feelings for him just yet. Perhaps in thirty minutes, but until then she was just going to sit there atop him and watch him make uncomfortable faces as she shifted her hips back and forth. Not enough to give him any real pleasure, just enough to drag him along.

Emma would let him out of the handcuffs when she was finally read for him. She wasn't going to deny herself the enjoyment of feelings his hands roaming across her skin. She wasn't a fool, she was just stubborn. Dragging out that blissful tension, was well worth the wait.


	6. A Rock and A Hard Place

_Anonymous asked:_

_possible dubcon prompt: she makes the hat, it doesn't work, so he goes all angsty sex rage on her and as he's taking her to "pleasure town" there's a rumble, a spark… from the hat._

**DUBCON WARNING**

****I literally wrote this in ten minutes.

"Why isn't it working?" Jefferson growled, looking at the inside of the hat, his hand searching it as if it would let him reach through to the other world. "_Why_? You didn't try hard enough! Again, make a new one! Now!" He gave her no chance to respond as he threw the felt and form at her direction, turning away in frustration. It had to work – it would work – he knew it. Why wouldn't it work? She was the one with the magic.

"I can't." Emma whispered, hesitant to see what he would do to her if she refused. "It's not going to work." His eyes were hostile as he turned to look at her, head tilting in disagreement. "I can't make another one."

"You _will_ make another one!" He charged at her, dropping the gun somewhere in the movement. It was a flash as he jerked her up by her shoulder, pulling her close. "Make my hat."

"I don't know how." Emma mumbled, unable to meet his eyes. They were angry eyes, wide and menacing. "I can't." Then his lips were pressed against his, wrapping his arm around her thin waist and pulling her close. Teeth and tongue and lips all thrashing against each other. She responded to the kiss, responded to the energy that had been buzzing between them since she nearly ran him off the road.

She started it. She was the first of them to pull at clothes, she would never be able to deny that it was her doing as his vest hit the floor. There was such raw passion between them in the heat of the moment. Anger, irritation, bitterness, fear, need, desire, lust, passion. It was all cut open and bare for them to consume.

She gasped as he spun her around, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. Pushing her against his need and against his shelves of hats. She was pinned between a rock and a hard place. He pushed against her, desperately seeking some pleasure. Every scrap of her teeth against his lips, every hiss she elicited, every touch of her hands – it was fire. He would gladly stroke this fire and watch her burn in turn.

Clothes quickly dropped to the floor. Hats rattled off of the shelf as he used it for leverage as he stripped her off her pants, making quick work of anything that would keep them apart. The angle was all wrong. It wasn't what he wanted. He stumbled back, letting her weight guide him as he sought out the table. He was gentle as he pushed back against it, taking that instant to finish what they'd started.

Emma pulled at his hair, her lips never leaving his as she tried desperately to conceal her sounds with his mouth. She'd be mortified if Mary Margaret heard this. Ashamed. For all Mary Margaret knew, the racket was from a fight.

His lips moved to her neck, nipping the flesh, making his mark on her. She froze as she saw the coiled scar around his neck. Her hips still moved against his but, the scar was _real. _The moment struck as she dug her nails into the back finally reaching the moment that pushed her over the cliff. He crushed against her, exhausted and satisfied. He still lazily nipped at her jawline, mingling teeth and lips.

She touched the scar, tracing it without a word. They were still, breathing heavy, still entwined intimately and neither wished to move. Not ready to admit what they had both consented to. Nothing moved but their chests and the hat. At first it was silent, but then it made a swift hissing sound, as it trembled on the table. Their eyes met, motionless as the both turned to look at the hat.

"Our energy." Emma was suddenly caught up in the moment, believing that the hat _was_ magic.

"It's working." Jefferson reluctantly clambered off of her, reaching for the hat. It had stopped now. Their connection was lost and so was the magic. "It worked." He grinned widely, his eyes still as insane as they ever were. "I can't let you go now."

Emma nodded, sitting up on the table. "You should let Mary Margaret go."

"Why?" He narrowed his eyes, wondering if she meant to escape. His lips trembled, fearful that he'd lose his progress.

"I don't want her to hear us." Emma took the hat from his hands. "We have more work to do on it."

He smirked devilishly, leaning into kiss her again, "Then I'll go let her free. Stay here." He reached for his clothes, putting them on in a disheveled manner. He turned with a spin, a slightly happier gait in his step as he moved to the door.


End file.
